Verona: All Deliciously Italian

Padua, while beautiful, does not offer a wide range of entertainment options for those who are neither university students or residents of the city. Much like Aberdeen, Padua is a lovely town to live in, not quite as nice a town to visit, at least that's the impression I got. With this in mind, we opted to spend our full day in Padua about an hour away in Verona instead. I'm not sure what I was expecting Verona to be like, but it wasn't.
     I certainly didn't anticipate it being as large as it was. When I pictured Verona, I saw it as more of a smaller city, maybe the size of Padua. Definitely not as a city seemingly larger than Florence. But it was. The first hint was that Verona has more than one train station, one of them being a terminus, a not insignificant clue to it's size. We embarked from the main train station, and walked the short distance into town, passing an old moat along the way. The main drag leading to the old city gates was lined with modern shops in slightly-less-modern buildings. There were wide sidewalks, with occasional tree-lined boulevards. The effect was lovely. I liked Verona already.


     But it's not until you get to Piazza Bra that you really are struck by the vast importance of this city. Standing smack in the middle of the square is a giant Roman arena, one of the largest, most well-preserved arenas in the
world. It's very nearly complete; most of the outer section was destroyed by an earthquake, but the rest is still standing, a remarkable testament to it's builders. What were they thinking, these Roman, as they built all these aqueducts, temples, arenas, and forums? They had to think they were going to last forever, because they thought the Empire was going to last forever. Did they know these stones they laid on top of each other were going to last longer than almost anything else they left behind? I stood on the plaza, my hand resting on the cold stones, trying to soak up everything they could tell me. Can you imagine what stories they could tell? What intrigues, what mundane details, what scandals and governments have risen and fallen as they watched silently? How many millions of people have walked past them and marvelled at their grace and power, exactly as we were that day? It absolutely boggles my mind.


We continued exploring the city, wandering down the streets, stumbling upon churches, more Roman ruins, and the house of a famous girl who never actually existed. Yes, I'm talking about you, Juliet. The house is lovely, despite the balcony which was added on in the 1930's as a ploy to attract more tourists (it worked. People pay money to stand on Juliet's balcony. I don't understand.), and if this is what has to happen to maintain sights like this in a world so intent on modernity, I guess I can live with it. The falsity of it seems to mock the entire atmosphere of the city in a way it wouldn't in Venice, say. But honestly, there's only so much one can expect. I'm willing to give Verona a pass on that. It makes me sad, but not as sad as the alternative would.

   
The contrast between Florence and Verona is subtle, but definite. For one thing, Verona doesn't exist in the bottom of a bowl. Consequently, it had more room to grow. This makes it seem like a much more livable city. The streets are wider, perhaps a tad bit cleaner and the river is given more freedom to roam. Although the actual old center of town isn't actually that big, the sights are perhaps more spread out which maybe dilutes the crowds of tourists a bit. And with the wider streets, and more open riverfront, the stifling heat of summer could maybe not hit quite as hard.
      While eating lunch (the most delicious gnocchi I've ever had) on a sun-drenched piazza, we pondered the storyline of the another Shakespeare play set there: Two Gentlemen of Verona. Neither of us could remember much about it, unsurprising, since according to Wikipedia, it's generally considered one of his weaker plays. (I read it when I got home. It doesn't even take place in Verona.) But, it did inspire a great travel itinerary.
     What if you created a tour that went to all the sites mentioned in Shakespeare's plays? Think about how great that would be: all over England, Scotland, and France, numerous cities in Italy and Greece, Denmark, Egypt, and possibly more I'm unable to bring to mind right now. Who wants to come with me?  I'm dedicated to this idea. It's going to happen at some point.


Eventually, we found steps to a terrace overlooking the city. On the way up we passed the ruins of a Roman theater currently undergoing excavation, some absurdly picturesque homes, and a mini-park half-way up that gave us a teasing glimpse of the city from above. When we did finally make it to the top, we stood silently, drinking it all in. Florence was a city of domes. Verona is a city of spires. The sun was shining in bursts through the clouds, lessening the menace of the dark grey hanging over the city. We paid absolutely no attention to whatever castle or palace was behind us, because we were so taken with the city laid at our feet.

      Reluctantly, we retraced our steps, somehow managing to end up at a different point along the river than where we had found the path. We passed a crowd of seagulls surrounding a pile of spaghetti someone had dumped on a concrete post. Spellbound and slightly uneasily, we watched as they devoured the pasta, pushing each other in order to get to the food.


Seagulls aside, Verona was the perfect antidote to whatever travel weariness I had experienced the day before. I don't know what it was: the lack of rain, having slept, being in a different city than the one which had made me such an inexplicably grouchy human being, or just the simple fact that I got over myself. But I'm certainly willing to give Verona some of the credit. So far on our trip, we'd immersed ourselves in the old, even ancient worlds of Italy. Disregarding Milan (which I am perfectly happy to do), Verona was the first truly cosmopolitan city we visited. It had charm and history, but also sensibility and forward motion. It recognized it's past, while acknowledging there is more to a city than the number of tourists it can attract. In Verona you could sense both the old and new civilizations living in harmony with each other. The contrast of ancient ruins and modern idlers on cell phones nowhere seemed more natural. Florence and Sienna were museums, Padua, a dream. Verona was real life.

     As we passed back through the gates on our way back to the train station, we discovered another Shakespeare artefact. Right next to the gate, on the inside wall of the city, there was a plaque quoting Romeo: "There is no world without Verona walls/ but purgatory, torture, hell itself. / Hence banished is banished from the world/ and world's exile is death..." I might not go that far. But Verona definitely captured my heart.